Batman: Partners in Crime
by iammemyself
Summary: Eddie and Jonathan go to the Iceberg to rig themselves a poker game against the Penguin, but Jonathan has his own methods.


Indiana

Characters: Riddler, Scarecrow [Scriddler]

Synopsis: Eddie and Jonathan go to the Iceberg to rig themselves a poker game against the Penguin, but Jonathan has his own methods.

Having a literal partner in crime was new to Edward, but after having experienced the benefits in the last little while, he had to wonder why he'd never tried it sooner. There was the matter of backstabbing and chicanery and that whole 'no honour among thieves' thing, but whoever had come up with all of that hadn't taken into account how useful it was to have someone you could _trust_ with all of your affairs. Someone you could trust with your _self_. There was one man Edward did not have to play the game with, and it was honestly one of the most rewarding things he'd ever done.

And as if Edward's thoughts had summoned him - but that would have been ridiculous to suppose even if he hadn't agreed to meet Edward at the time it currently was - he appeared, sans a disguise as usual. Edward had advised him otherwise - there were security cameras, for heaven's sake! - but Jonathan had merely smiled serenely at him as he always did and left Edward to fuss over the details, as usual.

Jonathan sat down at the round table across from Edward and did not acknowledge him in the slightest. That was part of the plan, of course, though it didn't prevent Edward from being a little miffed anyway. He didn't have to _wave_ , or anything, but a nod or at least a glance in his general direction would have been nice.

And probably counterproductive as well, since Edward's disguise of a hat and purple sunglasses was not terribly... disguising, but even _his_ thoughts didn't always fall into logical line. Jonathan, damn him, did not need a disguise at all, both because few citizens of Gotham had gotten a good look at his face and because he had more or less of an invisible presence anyway. Contrary to popular belief he didn't have an unwavering aura of fear everywhere he went. He kept Jonathan Crane and the Scarecrow very professionally separate. He had at least taken Edward's advice and put on one of his... more lightly used suit jackets, though he could still see Jonathan's habitual plaid flannel ensconced beneath it. He tried not to sigh. Jonathan was a creature of habit, to be sure; it was comforting, in a way, but also incredibly frustrating at times. And at those times, Edward didn't know whether he wanted to shoot him or hug him. Since he wasn't totally partial to shooting and Jonathan was not always partial to hugging, usually Edward just had to suffer.

At last the final player sat at the table - the Penguin himself, as Edward had predicted when he'd come up with this plan - and the game began. Edward settled in for a very long and very boring poker tournament, the only saving grace of it being that, between himself and Jonathan, they were going to clean the Penguin out. Edward had explained all of the signals to Jonathan beforehand, Jonathan listening in polite disinterest as he worked on some manner of toxin or another. It was something Edward had perfected a long time ago, back when he'd been a little less creative when it came to acquiring the funds for his various endeavours. Nowadays he generally only rigged poker games to amuse himself, and Jonathan had gone along with it this time because one did not pass up the opportunity to get one over on the Penguin. He'd sold out his own far too many times.

Edward generally also only played poker honestly to amuse himself. This time, it was business, and so his sunglasses were not solely to hide his face. No, they were also connected to the security cameras at the Iceberg that he'd hacked into before he'd sat down at the table. Technically this wasn't even against the rules, though it was more because no one expected such a thing than because no one considered it to be. Edward had a pretty good view of four of the players hands in one of the lenses. He would have preferred not to leave the other four up to chance, but he still had to be able to see and he didn't like doing so over his own shoulder.

"The buy-in, gentlemen," the Penguin said as he adjusted his pretentious monocle, "is five thousand dollars. I gather you all have it?"

Edward had to consciously prevent his lip from curling as he removed the requisite amount from his jacket pocket. Edward had accounted for several times that sum, and here was old Ozzie acting like he was getting them to break the bank. If this was all the Penguin was willing to play with, it would be a pleasure to clean him out. Not that it hadn't been before he'd said that, nor any of the many times Edward had done this already.

The game was very routine and boring for him, since he was technically in disguise and if he started talking, well... the jig would be up if he did that. It was a loss, in his opinion, all of the witticisms he was unable to deliver. He eyed Jonathan discreetly now and again, who was as always impassable, and quite blatantly ignoring all of Edward's signals. This bothered Edward greatly, but it didn't seem to be problematic as of yet. He'd folded when he should have stayed the hand a few times and there was one simply catastrophic attempt at bluffing with a five and a two, but Jonathan was a lot better at poker than Edward would have thought to give him credit for. Edward hadn't known he even knew how to play.

The Penguin of course attempted to cheat several times, since he didn't want to lose at his own table, but he and Jonathan managed to sucker him out of the game with a spectacular double bluff which was very hard for Edward to keep from acknowledging. He sorely wanted to drop it all just then and reveal they'd been playing him all along, but he contained himself. The true outcome was yet to be, and besides that Jonathan would be insufferable once they'd returned home. He was insufferable a lot of the time, though if you'd told him as much he would have insisted that _Edward_ was the insufferable one, which was of course preposterous. Edward risked a glance at him now and had to try twice as hard to keep from laughing. His eyebrows had risen by no more than a millimetre and his lips were only barely thinner than usual, but Edward could tell Jonathan was also markedly amused by the turn of events. Edward allowed Jonathan to win the hand since he was going to win the game anyway and he didn't mind it carrying on for an extra round.

The Penguin grudgingly supervised the rest of the game, congratulating Edward on his victory with such falseness that Edward was almost insulted - until he remembered he was in disguise and Penguin had no idea whom he was being so rude to. He was kind of insulted anyway; sunglasses and a hat _really_ shouldn't fool someone who had been in the business as long as the Penguin had. All in all Edward was disgruntled as he met Jonathan three blocks away from the Iceberg, where Edward had borrowed someone's driveway for the evening. The driveway in question was usually empty, the owner probably at their evening drudge of a job, so he hadn't believed it would be noticed. Even if it was, the plates on his car were fake and from out of state, and by the time the GCPD was able to run them he would have had the car replaced or modified again. It was a pain to get that done but it was far preferable to being caught out of sheer laziness.

"You're not pleased, I take it," Jonathan said as he moved into the passenger seat much like a pool of oil might have slipped down a drain. His frame was oddly deceptive in that way, not at all belying his unusual grace. Edward envied that about him, though he would of course never admit as such. All right, he _had_ admitted it twice on very separate occasions, but only once on purpose and Jonathan had been nice enough not to mention either incident. Just like Edward had been nice enough not to mention that both times Jonathan's high cheekbones had darkened just enough to be noticeable. Those were the occasions they silently agreed never to speak of again.

"Why would you think that?" Edward said as calmly as possible, accidentally holding the key in the ignition well after the engine had already turned over. He twisted to look out the back window, bracing his free arm against the back of Jonathan's seat as the other hand manoeuvred the car back out of the driveway. When he'd finished that and had both hands on the steering wheel again, Jonathan was smiling. Not that anyone but Edward would usually have noticed - he kept them behind his glasses as a matter of course. But he wasn't remotely containing this one, and as always a warmth settled in Edward's stomach even as he told himself much of Jonathan's amusement stemmed from his knowledge that Edward wasn't being completely forthright, and so it really didn't matter that the cold blue of his eyes had softened or that there was a touch more colour in his cheeks or that he had caused that oh so gentle curve of Jonathan's lips -

No. No, he wasn't fooling anybody with that. Much less himself. He wished he wasn't driving so he could cross his arms indignantly. He settled for tapping his thumb impatiently against the steering wheel and staring judiciously out of the windshield, and even though he was pretty sure if he casually readjusted one of the rearview mirrors he'd be able to see Jonathan still, he definitely was not going to do that even though he was sorely tempted to -

"I have my methods," Jonathan said, equally calmly... probably moreso, infuriatingly enough. Edward envied that about him, though he would never - hm. He might have admitted that to him as well, three times, twice on purpose. Damn Jonathan for having so many outstanding character traits!

"Do you now," Edward said in fake disinterest, though he of course wanted to know what those methods were. He pulled up at a red light. "Do these 'methods' explain why you ignored me the whole night?"

"They do, in fact," Jonathan answered in that same infuriatingly calm way. "You frequently forget that I am a _psychologist_ , Edward. I can read people. I'm perfectly capable of winning poker tournaments without your brand of... help. I'll admit, my reads were amiss now and again, but you have to agree that for the most part I did extremely well."

"Hmph," was all Edward could bring himself to say to that. He also reapplied pressure to the accelerator perhaps a little more force than he should have, but it was preferable to pushing Jonathan out of the car and running him over with it, which was what he had a _very_ strong predilection towards doing just then. Particularly because he would have regretted it afterwards. He didn't like regrets - he preferred to avoid them if at all possible - and as annoying as it was, after the satisfaction wore off he really _would_ regret smearing Jonathan underneath his engine block. He realised his jaw had locked up and forced his tongue between his teeth.

"You were a bit of a challenge, I admit," Jonathan went on, and Edward could have sworn he'd almost bitten through his tongue by mistake. He swallowed against the sudden bitter taste in his mouth as Jonathan said, "Your tells were very subtle. I applaud you for that. You managed to waylay me a few times."

"I do not have _tells_ ," Edward said forcefully, even as he was aware that stiffening his arm against the steering wheel did not help his argument. "I'm a professional."

"Oh, I didn't refute that," Jonathan answered, still very calm. "There's no doubt that you're a professional. But psychology is a tricky beast, old friend, one you cannot always control no matter how skilled you are."

Despite himself, Edward could feel his ire softening in response to Jonathan's words. It wasn't that Jonathan never told him things like that; he would, now and again, when Edward wasn't expecting it and sometimes when he wasn't completely paying attention. It was the _genuineness_ of it. He never spoke with the sole purpose of stroking Edward's ego, as so many in his position did, he always _meant_ it. It was just so... he didn't really know. He didn't have the means of describing it. All he could say for sure was that he wasn't angry anymore.

"So quiet, all of a sudden," Jonathan teased softly. "I must be right, then."

"You're right a lot," Edward told him, not altogether unwillingly. "And yet that seems to come as a surprise."

"Not a surprise, not at all. Merely an observation." He could feel Jonathan's eyes on him, studying him as he set his own to the rear of the car ahead of him as he was supposed to do. It had stopped being unnerving a while ago, but he hadn't stopped wondering if Jonathan ever found what it was he was looking for when he scrutinised Edward's face like that. "The two of us must play one-on-one sometime. You'll think of some fitting stakes, no doubt."

He hated hearing himself say it. He didn't know if he'd actually _meant_ to say it. He probably hadn't. The thought of asking on purpose nearly turned his stomach. He had no qualms about bending the rules for his own purposes - he was above them, after all - but someone cheating on his behalf had some intangible _wrongness_ to it he couldn't stand. It felt as though the license plate ahead of him was permanently imprinted on his vision when he asked, "Did you let me win, Jonathan?"

The pause was brief but stretched as those moments do, setting off a jangling of nerves down Edward's spine. Then Jonathan said, oh so softly, almost kindly, "I wanted to."

Edward's jaw began to tighten.

"But," Jonathan went on, "I told you the truth. I couldn't always find an indication of what you were planning. However. Even if I could have, I would not have. I knew you would be... hurt if I had, and you had found out. Which you inevitably would have. You're not stupid. You would have figured it out and you would have been upset, and rightly so. I would not have let you win. You would have been upset even if I hadn't, though you would probably invest yourself in strengthening your poker skills afterward. And that would have been fine. Annoying, but fine. An apt description for you in general, by the way. Conceding to you outright on purpose, though... I think... I think that would have tainted something between us, and..."

Edward waited for the rest. _And what, Jonathan? And what?_

"I didn't want that," he continued, still in that gentle way. "Honesty is a rare commodity we have worked to exchange, and... you know what I think of it, but I'm aware of the value you hold in that and of your pride, though I'm not yet certain which is the higher."

If he ever figured that out, he was quite free to share the information; Edward really didn't know himself. All indication of anxiety had faded with Jonathan's words and had been replaced with that odd peace that only Jonathan had ever given him. He said nothing as he pulled up in front of their tenement building to drop Jonathan off. Edward had to go to the underground bank to deposit the money, both because Edward disliked having cash lying around and because the black market teller liked to charge exorbitant fees for deposits and Jonathan couldn't be bothered to haggle him down to a somewhat reasonable price. The one and only time Jonathan had taken one of their shared deposits to the bank, he had given the teller almost half of it. When an incensed Edward had demanded an answer, Jonathan had merely shrugged and said that he had better things to do.

Edward took care of all their money after that.

Jonathan unfastened his seat belt but didn't move until Edward glanced at him to figure out why. Before Edward had fully registered the brush of Jonathan's lips against his cheek the other had already slipped out of his door and into the sidewalk. "Jonathan," Edward said, not really knowing why - which was a discomfiting trend that came up a lot with him - and Jonathan leaned back into the car, long fingers like birds' claws against the frame. His flexibility, as always, was nearly supernatural.

"Yes?" Jonathan asked, as though he hadn't just graced Edward's face with his oh so gentle kiss. Edward's mind was a complete blank for far too many seconds before he was able to think of, "You played well. I was actually impressed."

Jonathan smiled; it was one of those unexpected smiles, and therefore he didn't have the chance to decide what to do with it before it crossed his face. It was one of Edward's favourite things. "Thank you," he said simply. "Perhaps if I'm lucky, I'll beat you next time."

Edward scoffed. "You would need a whole lot of _that_ to beat _me_."

Jonathan was still smiling, oddly enough, and Edward found it comforting to think that maybe it was just that he couldn't bring himself to stop. He wasn't an emotional man, no one would ever say that, but sometimes for Edward and Edward alone, he could be. Now _there_ was something Edward valued more than any physical thing he owned.

"Will you have the courtesy to wish me luck when the time comes, then?" Jonathan asked.

Now Edward was smiling, not really certain he wanted to be but not wanting to do anything about it. "Luck is for people without brains, my friend, and if you have no brains I'm afraid we'll have to part ways. Which we must do for the time being regardless. Farewell."

Jonathan gave the most minuscule of nods and let go of the frame, standing back. "Pick something up for me?"

"Sure. What did you want?"

That smile ghosted across Jonathan's face as he said, "Make it a surprise."

Edward's favourite request. "Fine," he said, feigning weariness though he really didn't mind. "I'll go out of my way to find you something you won't like. _After_ not getting us scammed out of our money at the bank. While you relax upstairs." He already had an inkling of what he was picking up even as he said this, because he all too well knew what Jonathan liked. He was running low on extremely tacky Halloween candles, which he had a special adoration for, and Edward knew just the place to get another one even though it was January.

"Don't strain yourself too much," Jonathan said as he closed the door. As usual he disappeared without looking back. And Edward appreciated that about him. It reminded him to do the same. Edward sometimes found himself dwelling on things far beyond changing, but Jonathan knew how to control that sort of thing, how to stop wasting time on it. He'd not outright told Edward how to do it, but quite often he could tell when it needed done and managed to artfully redirect his attention onto something else. There were very few people Edward respected enough to deign to allow to teach him things, and somehow Jonathan had become one of them. Edward didn't know how. It had just occurred to him one day that that was the case. Was the notion mutual? He wasn't sure. He hoped so. He'd never done such a thing before in his life, but there it was. In any case, he'd now been idling at the curb long enough to be suspicious, and without further delay shifted the transmission into drive.

And he'd been there because he'd been thinking about the importance a person had to him. He shook his head ruefully even as he smiled to himself. Now _there_ was a prediction he never would have made in the past. Not that the past mattered anymore. Only the present did, and the sooner he finished his errands the sooner he could find out what that was.

He couldn't wait to see the look on Jonathan's face when he got back...


End file.
